Stuff That Dreams Are Made Of
by Erythros
Summary: She is almost his dream. Len x Hino.


**Title: **Stuff That Dreams Are Made Of

**Rating: **PG

**Pairing: **Hino Kahoko/Tsukimori Len

**Summary: **She was almost his dream.

**Author's Notes: **Really, this was inspired by Chapter Fifty-seven of the manga. Let me tell you, people, the manga is 19482736x more romantic than the anime, and it really does need more support, because slow as the pace may be, I find that it's one of the underappreciated series out there. And while this may not have turned out the way I planned it to, I suppose it's pretty okay, considering I haven't written anything since late last year. I need to write more Len/Hino. I also suggest you read this with Schubert's _Ave Maria _playing somewhere in the background. I think you can find it on imeem . com :D ANYWAY. I hope you enjoy this! Insanely fluffy, but most of what's italicized come directly from the scanlated chapter. Read on, my friends!

**Disclaimer: **_La Corda D'Oro _does not belong to me, so obviously, Len and Hino aren't mine either. The title is inspired from Shakespeare's play, and again, most of what's italicized are from Chapter 57. :D

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It was at this spot.

The sun was setting, and she could hear nothing else but the waves crashing against the rocks. At this hour, children were heading home from playtime, the old men who always sat on that bench at the end of the walk were packing up their chess set, and eventually, she was alone.

It was at this spot, and she could hear nothing else but the waves.

Strange, how it seemed so silent the night before. He had been standing _there, _and she was _here, _right on this spot, when something inside her ached almost faintly.

_We may not be able to see each other for a very long time. _

He was _right _there. She remembered the way his back looked, how he pocketed his hands, and how his footsteps sounded as he began to walk away.

He was walking further away.

The boardwalk was silent and the sun had gone.

_Tsukimori-kun, are you leaving soon?_

And somewhere, inside her, something ached almost faintly.

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**&&&**

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_That's so cool! When are you leaving, during the spring holidays? Or the next summer holidays? You're so lucky! You can gain a lot of exposure studyi—_

"...concert, Len? Len? Are you listening?"

He snapped his head up. His mother was looking at him curiously. "I'm sorry," he said, "What did you say, Mother?"

Hamai Misa frowned concernedly at her son. "I was asking whether or not you and Hino-san enjoyed the concert last night."

_It's not a short-term study trip._

He stiffened at the mention of her name, and his mother could not help but notice. "Did anything happen…?"

_The frozen smile, the way her eyes began to soften. _

The memory of her face was imprinted upon his mind.

He'd felt a million things in a single instant - relieved, regretful, pained, numb - and before he knew it, he'd told her it was late and he'd better take her home. Perhaps it was because he didn't know what to do; perhaps he couldn't face her properly.

Tsuchiura was right: he was a coward.

He was leaving, and the only thing he knew _how_ to do was push her away.

_"No, Mother. We enjoyed the concert very much. Thank you for the tickets. Hino had a wonderful time--"_

"I told her I was going to Europe."

The chimes by the open window sounded as a breeze blew into the room. His mother sipped from her tea, and he looked at his hands - _he remembered how small hers were to his - _and then--

"You know, Len," Hamai Misa quietly said, "dreams are important."

He looked up, and found her looking back at him. The same golden eyes peered at him, and he almost felt like a child who didn't know what to do and where to go.

His mother set down her teacup, and stood up. "They're important, but sometimes, there are things worth so much more than our dreams."

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**&&&**

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The room was drowned in light. The sun was setting, and she stood by the stand, playing on her violin. She was lost in the music when the door clicked open and he arrived.

Just like the time she stood outside the window, listening to him play, she was glowing, and her music, awkward as it sounded, was golden.

_Are you going to keep playing the violin? _

"Ah, Tsukimori-kun! You're already here."

_Bright smile, crinkled eyes. The gentle sound of her voice._

"I was going through the second half, I think it's harder than the first – _oh!"_

He'd walked over to where she stood and brought her into his arms, closer to his heart, where he kept his dreams of being famous, of studying in Vienna, of playing the _Ave Maria _once more with her. _With her._

_He __loved _her.

"Do your best." Almost imperceptibly, his hold on her grew tighter.

"Tsukimori-kun…?"

_If you continue playing, then one day, I…_

"You'll continue playing, won't you?"

She was almost his dream.

_I really wish for… hope that—_

"I'd like to play with you again, Tsukimori-kun."

He smiled at that, and held her even closer.

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_One day… no matter where it may be, we may be able to meet each other._

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_**fin**_


End file.
